


Leprechaun Tigers

by dance_across



Category: due South
Genre: Benton Fraser/Francesca Vecchio (but not really), Five Times, Gen, M/M, POV Frannie, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4641534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance_across/pseuds/dance_across
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Frannie imagined Fraser being the perfect boyfriend, and one time he actually was. Except not in the way she'd hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leprechaun Tigers

**1**

Fraser does this thing with his eyes. This thing where he, you know, _looks_ at you when you talk to him. Which doesn’t sound too unusual, sure, but the thing is, most people don’t do that. Most people look, but they don’t _look_. They don’t focus on you like you’re the only person in the room or maybe the only person in the universe, like they don’t care about anyone else but you, just so long as you keep on talking. But that is exactly what Fraser does. He doesn’t just look, he _looks_. And he _listens_ , too.

If you ask me, it’s the most annoying thing a guy can do. Because, okay, when someone looks at you like that when you talk to him, how can you _not_ start thinking there’s something between you?

Like that time a couple months ago, for instance, when Fraser came over to me and said, “Francesca, may I ask if you know where Ray is? I notice he’s not at his desk.”

See, that’s how he talks. He starts with your name, like he _wants_ you to feel that little zing of “Who, me? Ooh!” when you hear how gorgeous your name sounds when he’s saying it—and then it’s all politeness and complete sentences and perfect grammar.

So I smiled up at him, and he smiled down at me, and I said, “Oh, yeah, Ray called in sick today.” Seven words, but the whole time I was saying them, he was _looking_ and _listening_ like they were the most important seven words he’d ever heard.

“Goodness, I didn’t realize,” he said, his eyes widening, and, good Lord help me, the things those eyes make me want to _do_ to him.

“But hey,” I said, “if you got a case and you need someone to, say, be your partner for the day? If you need that, then here I am!”

Except while my mouth was saying that, my brain was doing something else entirely.

_“Actually,” says Fraser, “as it happens, I would appreciate that very much. You see, I’m investigating a case that requires me to go undercover at a very expensive, very romantic Italian restaurant, and I’ll need a date. I’d been planning on asking Ray, but it would be a far more convincing cover if you accompanied me, don’t you think?”_

_“Oh, definitely!” I say, and I’m totally cool about it, not blushing or sounding weird or tripping over anything or falling on my face. “Is it tonight? Want to pick me up at eight?”_

_He agrees, and when eight rolls around later tonight he pulls up to the house in Ray’s car, which he borrowed, and I sweep down the front stairs in this real tight, real sexy blue dress that shows off all my curves and doesn’t clash with his uniform, which obviously he’s wearing. Fraser’s eyes sweep over me, and I know he means it when he says, “You look absolutely stunning, Francesca.”_

_“Thank you, Fraser,” I reply, taking his arm._

_“Please, call me Benton,” he says, and opens the car door for me._

Yeah, that’s what my brain was doing while my mouth was trying to talk to him—so even though what I meant to say was “If you need that, then here I am!” somehow what ended up coming out was, “If you need that, then shear your sheep!”

And, okay, what does that even mean?

Come on, Frannie, just… just come on.

But Fraser, he’s too polite to tell me when I don’t make any sense, so he just kind of looked confused for a second, then he shrugged and looked back at Ray’s desk. “That won’t be necessary. I wanted to discuss a personal matter with him today, not a case.”

“Well, if you change your mind,” I said, leaning over a little, because I was wearing a new shirt today and I did _not_ want him to miss how good it made my boobs look.

Fraser, though, being all Fraser-y, didn’t notice the boobs at all. He just nodded, real polite, and went, “Thank you kindly, Francesca.”

I waited till he was out the door before I started banging my forehead on my desk.

Shear your sheep.

Ugh.

 

 **2  
**   
And, yeah, they only got worse from there, those little brain-vacations of mine. Not that I minded—because, really, why would I mind?—but they were awfully distracting, especially when I was supposed to be doing my job.

Although I guess the guys Fraser hung around with weren’t always doing their jobs either. Like this one time, I guess Detective Dewey must’ve been on lunch, because he had a half-eaten sandwich in his hand as he tailed Fraser through the squad room.

“Come on,” he was saying as he passed my desk, and I was on hold with the courthouse, so I listened in. Or overheard. Whatever. “Come on, everyone’s already put in their bets. Even Ray. Come on.”

“I’d really rather not,” said Fraser, rounding on Dewey.

“Why not?”

“Because it seems impolite to place a wager on the intimate actions of a woman I don’t even know.”

“Would it be better if you did know her?” said Dewey with a grin. “I could introduce you before we go out tonight.”

“I think not,” said Fraser stiffly.

“Come on,” said Dewey. “It’s only five bucks. Just pick a base. Wait, are bases the same up in Canada? First base means tongue, second base means she lets me touch her chest—”

“I’m familiar with the concept,” interrupted Fraser. “But as I would not feel comfortable with anyone making similar bets about my own romantic life, I’m going to insist on extending the same courtesy to the woman you’re going out with tonight.”

And that was it. Brain-vacation time.

_“You know they’re betting on us right?” I ask, right after we decide to get dessert to go and then eat it at his place. We’ve been dating for a week or so now, but it’ll be my first time over there, which is exciting for all kinds of reasons._

_“Betting?” he asks._

_“Yeah. Like how far we’ll go, and how long it’ll take for us to get there. You know.”_

_He leans back in his chair a little. “That’s… worrying. Francesca, I hope you’re not taking these bets into consideration as we, ah…”_

_Yeah, even in my brain-vacations Fraser’s all awkward and flustered when we start talking about anything even close to sex-related. Probably because that’s a huge part of what makes him so hot. He’s a_ gentleman. __

_“No way,” I assure him, putting my hand over his. “Of course not. Besides, I don’t even know who’s betting on what, so it’s not like I can rig the game, you know?”_

_“Thank you, Francesca,” he says. “That’s a very reassuring thing to hear. You really are a wonderful woman.”_

_We get our dessert and he brings me over to his place, which is a beautiful mansion with a Canadian flag flying over the front door, a crystal chandelier in the foyer, and a spare yet elegant array of furniture that’s just begging for the tiniest bit of a feminine touch, which I will be more than happy to provide in the hopefully-not-too-distant future._

_“You have wonderful taste,” I tell him. He beams at the compliment, and as soon as we’re inside and behind his closed front door, it happens, finally. Our very first kiss._

_He kisses just right, too, with a nicely balanced ratio of lips to tongue, and—_

“Bets about your _romantic life_?” said Dewey with a laugh that was almost kind of mean. “You? Fraser, buddy. You know I think you’re a great guy, but when was the last time you even bothered looking at a woman?”

That’s when Fraser turned his head just a little. Just enough to meet my eyes. I straightened up at my desk, and he gave me a very polite nod and said to Dewey, “I’m looking at Francesca right now.”

Dewey turned around and glared at me. I waggled my fingers at him, which made him glare harder. But it made Fraser smile before he started walking away again, so hurray for that, at least.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” said Dewey, jogging to catch up with Fraser. And then they were too far away, and I couldn’t hear the rest.

Gossip the next day was that Dewey only got to second base that night—and Huey won a ton of money, because most people apparently bet on third base. As far as I know, Fraser and me, we were the only ones who didn’t bet at all.

 

**3**

“I can’t believe this!” shouted Ray as he came into the squad room. “I can _not_ believe this. Why won’t she talk? Why won’t that stupid woman talk?”

“She’s hardly stupid, Ray,” said Fraser, following close on his heels. Everyone in the squad room kind of slowed down, doing that thing where they were listening in while trying not to look like they were listening. Everyone including me.

Not that it would’ve mattered. Ray was shouting loud enough that they could probably hear him in Indiana. “If she’s not _stupid_ , then why won’t she _talk_?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Fraser put a hand on Ray’s shoulder and spun him around, so they were facing each other. “She’s in love. They both are. People in love are often irrational in the lengths to which they’ll go to protect each other. Now, it could be that she _knows_ her partner shot MacDougal, but she feels that a self-defense plea won’t necessarily—”

“It’s not about being in love,” Ray interrupted. “They’re both chicks. Come on.”

Fraser reeled back like Ray had just slapped him, and, okay, I’d definitely never seen Fraser look that way before. He looked _hurt_.

But before he could say anything, though, Ray started waving his arms around and going, “No, no, wait, that’s not what I meant. Not about the two-chicks thing. I mean women, they’re not like us, right? They don’t do that thing where they just get blindsided by love and then, poof, all logic goes out the window. They’re _cunning_. I mean, look at Stella, she’d never refuse to talk just ’cause—”

“I know, Ray, I know.” Fraser’s voice was lower now, and his hand was on Ray’s back, rubbing a little bit like he was trying to be comforting and…

_“I love you,” he tells me, and his hand is on my back as he says it._

_“You what?” I say, because I did not see this coming, not at all._

_“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, this feeling I have for you. It’s more than caring, and it’s far more than just attraction. I really do think it’s love.” Fraser looks over at me with his big blue eyes, and the stars twinkle above our park bench, or maybe his chandelier twinkles if we’re inside, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that he ends with, “I just thought you should know.”_

_“Oh, Benton,” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder. “I love you, too.”_

_“Would you do anything for me?” he asks._

_“Of course,” I say. “You know I would.”_

_“Okay,” he says, “because something happened yesterday, and I need you to cover for me.”_

Nope. Nope. Wrong. That’s not how this goes. Rewind, brain, rewind. __

_“Oh, Benton,” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder. “I love you, too.”_

_“I know, Francesca,” he says, and leans his cheek against the top of my head. We fit together so nicely. “I’ve known, since the moment I met you, that nobody else in the world was capable of loving me as purely and wholeheartedly and passionately as you do. I’m just sorry it took me so very long to realize that I loved you too.”_

_“That’s okay,” I tell him, because I am a forgiving and generous person. And then we make out until someone passes by and tells us to get a room._

“Perhaps,” Fraser said, “if you were to express to her that you understand and sympathize with her situation, and that a detailed account of events really _would_ help keep her partner out of prison?”

“Yeah,” said Ray, slowly. “Yeah, okay, perhaps. You’re always right about this stuff, aren’t you.”

“Course he is,” I said, before it occurred to me that I was not actually supposed to be part of this conversation. But hey, whatever. “Fraser’s right about everything, aren’t you, Frase?”

“Oh, hardly everything,” he said—but then he was _looking_ at me, in that way that he just _looks_ at people, and I got kind of tingly all over. “But I appreciate the sentiment, Francesca.”

I leaned back in my chair a little, crossing my legs slowly, so Fraser couldn’t miss how short my skirt was. “It’s just, I think if _I_ were in love with someone, I’d do whatever I could to keep them safe.”

“As would I,” said Fraser, and I thought I saw him sneak a little look at Ray, but I probably just imagined it.

And even if I didn’t imagine it, it still ended with him, you know, _looking_ at me like that. Again.

I pointed to him, then to me, then back between us again, and I said, “You and me, see, we’re leprechaun tigers.”

_What what what what what was that._

“What was that?” said Ray, making it worse, like always.

Fraser smiled at him. “I think what Francesca means is that she and I are on the same page.” I nodded at him, relieved, and he nodded back before saying, “Come on, Ray, let’s see if we can’t convince her to tell her story.”

See? See? You _see_ why I love this guy?

 

**4**

And sometimes he doesn’t even need to be there for the brain-vacation thing to happen. Like I’ll just be on hold, or I’ll be waiting for some suspect’s priors to print out, or I’ll be waiting for the computer to do what I tell it, and just suddenly, out of nowhere,

_Fraser’s undressing me. He takes his time, acting like every new piece of my skin is a revelation. He runs his hands over me, and he kisses me, and he’s quiet about it, almost reverent. And when I’m totally naked and waiting for him on his fluffy king-sized bed, he undresses himself quickly, almost like an afterthought._

_“You’re gorgeous,” I tell him, and he thanks me kindly and lets me run my hands down his chest. And that chest. I mean, he’s… like, you know. Like_ wow _._

 _He kisses me all over, and I mean_ all _over, and by the time he slides into me, I’m so ready that it doesn’t even hurt. It just feels like it was meant to be. Like we’re both finally complete._

_We move slowly, finding our rhythm together, and he whispers over and over again that he loves me. He’s silent when he finally comes. Totally silent, with his face buried in my shoulder. That’s when I tell him that I love him, too._

__If Lieutenant Welsh only knew how many of my post-brain-vacation bathroom breaks were not actually for peeing, I’d probably get fired.

Or, well, on the other hand, he does work with a bunch of cops that are mostly guys. And guys are apparently _expected_ to get themselves off in the bathroom. So maybe he wouldn’t even blink an eye.

 

**5**

But the brain-vacation that changed it all—when that happened, Fraser wasn’t even in the squad room at the time. He’d gone off who-knows-where, and Ray with him, and it was just a bunch of irritated cops and this really loud, really annoying couple who wouldn’t stop yelling at each other.

“Me!” the man shouted. “This ain’t _my_ fault ’cause _I_ wasn’t the one who didn’t turn the stove off!”

And the woman shouted right back, even though all these cops were trying to get them to shut the hell up, “Well, maybe if you used your _rational voice_ ever, I wouldn’t always have to come running to get you without any time to check the stove first!”

The man: “You shouldn’t be using that stove anyway! Your lasagna sucks!”

The woman: “Well, why don’t _you_ try cooking once in a while!”

The man: “Because I’m too busy earning a living so you can buy those dresses that make you look so hot!”

The woman: “Don’t you start calling me hot unless you plan on _doing_ something about it!”

The man: “Well, maybe I _will_ do something about it!”

And then he grabbed her by the shoulders, backed her up until her butt bumped right into my desk and I had to jump out of the way, and just went at it. They started making out with these sloppy-kiss noises and hands up each other’s shirts and, and, and we were just all staring. Me and all the guys and even Welsh, none of us knew what to do.

Because nobody does this, you know? Nobody puts all their business, good and bad alike, out there for everyone to see. And it was kind of gross to watch, but also kind of beautiful, maybe? Like natural. Like for a second I wanted to be with this kind of guy—the kind who’d shove me up against a desk and start making out with me like he just can’t keep his hands off me and he doesn’t even care who sees—

 _No, not a desk. It’s a wall, because a desk would get uncomfortable real fast, and Fraser’s smart enough to know that. He pushes me up against the wall, the one right by the staircase, and I’m like, “Someone will see us!” because like the_ entire precinct _is passing by, running from one place to the next, trying to get their jobs done._

_“I don’t care,” Fraser murmurs, so low it’s almost a growl. “I can’t wait, Francesca. I must have you right now!”_

_And, yeah, it’s exactly as romantic as I thought it would be._

_Fraser takes my hands and pins them to the wall, right above my head, kind of like shackles but way hotter. And then he starts kissing me, first on my lips, and then down my neck and right into the V that my shirt makes, and he’s only inches away from my nipples and I’m sure, I’m just so completely sure that he’s gonna rip my top off and start doing completely indecent things to me, right there against the wall, and I can’t decide if I want him to or not, but the anticipation is so hot, sooooo hot, oh my god, oh my god._

I ran out of the squad room. I needed a bathroom break, and I needed it immediately. Except when I got to the bathroom, there were people in there. Someone in a stall, and these other two women talking by the sinks, and what the hell? There are almost no women at the 27, so why were all of them in the bathroom exactly when I needed to be there alone?

Storage closet. That was it.

I went out into the hallway, right past the place where I’d just imagined Fraser pressing me up against the wall, and I threw open the storage closet door and turned on the light, and—

For a second I didn’t even understand what I was looking at. Because, see, it seemed wrong to me that it was _Fraser_ being pressed up against the wall with his hands held above his head, getting his neck kissed. The way I’d imagined it, he was the one doing the pressing, not the one being pressed.

Yeah, that was the first thing I noticed, believe it or not.

Then I noticed the second thing, which was that the other person in the storage closet with Fraser was not me. It wasn’t a woman at all, actually.

“Oh my god,” I said, my hand flying to my chest as I recognized the stupid haircut. “ _Ray?_ ”

Ray dropped Fraser’s hands, and turned around to face me with murder in his eyes. “Hey, get out!” he said, pointing at the door behind me. “What do you think you’re doing, walking in here like you own the place?”

I backed up, going, “I, uh… I…”

No words would come out of me. Not even the wrong ones.

“Ray, calm down,” said Fraser, who was kind of sagging against the back wall of the storage room. His voice was a little breathier than usual, which I guess does tend to happen when you’ve just been making out with someone. I’d just never imagined him that way. Losing his breath like that. “Calm down. This closet doesn’t belong to you any more than it, ah, belongs to Francesca.”

“You,” I said, pointing at Ray, then at Fraser. “You two? The two of you? You’re?”

“We’re what?” said Ray, staring me down like he was about to murder me. For such a skinny guy, he could be real intimidating when he wanted. Kind of like my real brother.

A lump was starting to rise in my throat. I didn’t even know why. “Um. Together?”

Ray did that little “heh” thing that he does, the kind that’s more like a sneer than like a laugh, and then he said, “You didn’t see nothing here. You got that, Frannie?”

I didn’t answer him. I just turned and walked away, _wishing_ I hadn’t seen anything.

Because, oh my dear Lord Jesus Christ, the _look_ on Fraser’s face when he was getting kissed in that closet. His cheeks were flushed. His head was tipped back, and his eyes were closed. I could see his chest rising and falling, faster than usual, and he looked nothing like the calm and cool and totally-in-control guy who lived in my brain-vacations. He looked so much more, just, _gorgeous_ than that.

And how was I supposed to walk around with that picture in my head, now that I knew he didn’t even play for my team? Now that I knew he was together with _Ray_ , which was just, I’m sorry, totally gross?

“Francesca! Francesca, wait!”

Yup, that was Fraser’s voice. I wanted to ignore him, I really did, but how do you ignore the guy you keep daydreaming about when he actually talks to you in real life?

I turned around, and there he was. I made myself smile at him. “What is it, Frase?”

“I’m so sorry about that,” he said. “Ray gets very, well, _defensive_ when he’s caught by surprise. You understand, I hope?”

“Sure. Course I do.” I nodded, and then just kept nodding. I couldn’t stop. I must’ve looked crazy.

“Can we talk for a moment? In private?”

I nodded some more, and he led me into a little alcove and said, “I’m truly sorry that you saw that, Francesca. We simply got carried away. Neither of us intended to expose you to such a display of, well, I suppose you could call it public indecency.”

“It wasn’t indecent,” I said, kind of soft, kind of not looking at him at all. “It looked like you were having fun.”

Fraser was quiet.

“You love him?” I asked, finally looking up at his eyes. And there he was, looking back at me. _Looking_. You know the kind of looking I mean.

He scratched his eyebrow a little, then licked his lips, then said, “I… suppose I do. Yes.”

I’m not gonna lie and say that didn’t break my heart a little, because of course it did. But in a weird way, it also made me kind of happy. Because, you know, Fraser’s the guy who never gets close to anyone. Sure, he’s hot as hell, but he’s also stiff and awkward and way too into his job. There’s all those little weird parts of him that never make it into my brain-vacations. And if the real Fraser, the one with the hotness _and_ the awkwardness, can find someone to love?

Well, hey. Maybe I can, too.

“That’s good,” I said, really meaning it. And then, because who even knows why, I added, “Pineapple.”

Fraser blinked at me. I laughed and covered my face with my hands, but only until I heard him laughing too.

“Pineapple indeed,” he said. “Francesca, would you mind if I asked a favor of you?”

And for once, my mind didn’t go into some la-la-land where the favor was marrying him. I stayed right there, right in the present, and I said, “Sure thing, Frase. What is it?”

“Ray and I… you see, we’ve been trying to be discreet about the, ah…”

Yeah, of course that’s the one detail I got right. Of course he’s totally incapable of saying _relationship_ or _making out_ or _hooking up_. Which is why I smiled innocently at him and said, “About all the sex you’re having?”

He blushed the color of his uniform, which in my book counts as a success. He cleared his throat, rubbed his eyebrow again, and said, “I’d like to ask for your discretion as well. You see, this sort of thing is often frowned upon, even in times as modern as these.”

“Ohhh,” I said. “You’re afraid of losing your job?”

“No, not me,” he said. “My superior officer is a very open-minded woman, not to mention that in Canada we tend to take a more liberal view of… certain things. In this case, it’s more that Ray is concerned about _his_ job.”

He was covering for Ray. My heart melted, right there in the middle of the 27.

“You love him,” I said, “so you’re keeping him safe.”

“Just so,” he said.

“I won’t tell,” I said. “Cross my heart.”

That was when Fraser took one of my hands, brought it up to his mouth, and kissed it. Right on the knuckles. Like he was some old-timey knight and I was a princess.

The next day, there were flowers on my desk when I got in. A bouquet of yellow roses. Tucked inside was a card that said, _For your friendship, my most sincere gratitude._

There was no signature. But I knew who they were from.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Leprechaun Tigers [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6372157) by [DesireeArmfeldtPodfic (DesireeArmfeldt)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldtPodfic)




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